~~~~SS~~~~

Saturday, 30st August, 1997

The moment Severus approached the topsy-turvy home, he knew choosing to visit the Burrow on the Saturday before term began had been an awful idea. The noise radiating from the dwelling could be heard meters away, coming in waves of "where's my-", "I'm missing-", and "Do you think I need-", making him grateful he only had Harry to deal with. Unfortunately, his firecall an hour earlier had gone unanswered - most likely unheard in the mass of confusion - so he could only hope the exchange of his surprise visit wouldn't be too awkward for him to bare, and that the patriarch - the main reason for his visit - would be home on a Saturday morning. Arthur Weasley's position in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts wasn't any secret, though Severus could admit he didn't exactly know what the red-headed wizard actually did on a day-by-day basis. He had heard all about the raids they conducted in his old reality, many of which were done overnight, but he couldn't be certain the man worked a normal Monday to Friday schedule.

By the time the Slytherin approached the old wooden front door, the dew from the tall meadow grass left the bottoms of his black trousers damp, and so he pointed his wand to cast a quick drying spell, thinking he should have waited until later in the afternoon to arrive. He should have continued to try to solve this on his own and put the idea about this whole trip out of his mind. There were dozens of things and acts he should have done before coming to the Weasleys to ask for the strangest piece of advice, but he had completely run out of time and as of this morning, he remained empty-handed. Alternatively, he could choose to skip the meeting - refusing to think about it as a date - with Mae and go back to Hogwarts to prepare for the students' arrival on Monday. He could spend the day with Harry, who had seemed a little down this morning when Severus had explained he would be out in the morning and the evening; though the prospect of spending the day moving himself into the Tower did raise his spirits slightly. But the truth was he wanted to go on this… to go to this meeting; he needed to see where it could go and he enjoyed the short talks he'd had so far with the muggle nurse.

His firm, loud knock on the door reminded him of some of his harshest days teaching Potions. When, without fail, some idiotic first year - most likely a muggleborn student as his classroom was typically their first introduction to many of the unique ingredients and processes - would come too close to mixing their ingredients incorrectly, potentially causing an explosion or melting cauldron, and his fist hitting his own desk caused the entire room to instantly halt. He still held that power to intimidate, but after adopting Harry in his old reality, combined with the challenges this last year had brought, he found himself less likely to use those tactics to control his students. He wasn't soft, by any means, still often making his students cry by his realistic - some might say hostile or malicious - remarks in regard to their lessons, but it no longer held the same vile sting as it used to. And most of all, he didn't get the same pleasure from seeing them squirm.

Eventually, someone on the inside of the home managed to hear his knocking through the ruckus and when the door opened, Ginny Weasley gave a small jump in surprise to see him there.

"Professor Snape?" The youngest Weasley child asked.

Dressed in a light green and and yellow sundress, she looked much more confident than she did in her brothers' hand-me-down robes, and Severus found himself coming to the realization there were only two more years left - though this would likely be his last - of this generation of Weasleys at Hogwarts. After over a decade of Weasley children, they would finally be gone.

"After being your professor for the last five years, Miss Weasley, I do hope you can correctly identify my presence."

"Of course," she retorted, and Severus knew he'd been spending too much time with the Weasley clan when she practically rolled her eyes at his comment. "I wasn't expecting to see you, is all. Did you need mum for something?"

"Severus? Is that you?" Molly Weasley called, pushing her way into the doorway from behind her daughter. The matriarch looked completely disheveled with a flour covered apron over a bright dress, and her red hair sticking out every which way in a frizzy mess. If he had three children to get ready for the Hogwarts Express in two days time, he would probably feel the same way she looked. Simultaneously though, he knew she would grieve these days as her last child was heading into her N.E.W.T. courses; time couldn't stand still and before she knew it, the house would be eerily quiet on the 31st of August. "Go on, Ginny. You still have summer work to complete."

"See you in class, professor," Ginny smirked and walked back into the noisy house.

Molly closed the door behind her, taking a refreshing breath of the crisp morning air. Then with concern-filled eyes, she asked, "Everything alright, Severus? Is it Harry-

"Harry is fine," he interrupted quickly to ease her worried thoughts. "I was actually hoping to speak with Arthur regarding a… personal project I'm working on."

Suddenly, a large crash came from behind the closed front door. Molly, who had likely become desensitized to the chaos long ago, didn't even flinch.

"Do you need…" he pointed to the door.

She waved off his comment, "Fred and George are home to see the kids off on Monday. I'll be lucky if the house is still standing by then."

"I'll be sure to warn Minerva to check for any contraband attempted to be snuck into the castle this year."

Molly gave a sad laugh, then pointed out towards the garage on the corner of their property, "Arthur spends the Saturday before school doing some kind of last minute work. You'd think he'd realize that I know exactly what he's up to after all these years. But we only have one more after this, so I figure why mention it now."

"Thank you, Molly," he said, unsure - and slightly uncomfortable - with what to do with her last statement.

"Anytime, Severus," she smiled and gave him a small pat, which would be patronizing from almost anyone else, on his upper arm.

The walk to the garage was easy, no more than a matter of going around their fenced perimeter of the side and back gardens towards where he could already hear tools banging and clanging, metal on metal. Severus used the walk to work through exactly what he wanted to ask the muggle-loving pureblood wizard. Blood traitor, they'd been called by Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and Severus shivered against the soft wind, wondering when those random memories would cease to exist in his mind. Never, he knew, but they would fade with time, turning into a distant memory and he anxiously awaited those wonderful moments. Today, he would relish in whatever muggle-magical knowledge Arthur could provide. If Minerva was correct - and why wouldn't she be - about Arthur being tasked with finding a way for the Order to stay in communication if part or all of them had needed to go into hiding, it wouldn't be a stretch for him to have a solution to Severus's own conundrum.

The sound of mechanical work continued to increase as he approached the half open door leading into the garage. The smell of oil and grease wafted out reminding Severus of his own long days and nights over the potions bench; an activity he didn't do nearly as much anymore, greatly missed, and was anxious to start again the following week at the MLD.

"Arthur?" The former spy called out, peeking his head into the garage.

Having never stepped foot in the Weasley garage, from either reality, Severus had no idea what to expect. However, a room filled almost to the brim with what the professor would classify as junk was far from what he imagined. He guessed the patriarch had a method to his madness, and could only assume the man could actually identify the random parts and objects around him. Severus crinkled his hooked nose as the door magically opened the rest of the way and a horrid stench hit it. Arthur was standing at a workbench - though the actual bench top could not be seen - surrounded by cords of different lengths and sizes, several motors scattered in pieces, and three muggle radios. Further down on the bench, wrenches, screwdrivers, other tools sat haphazardly across the wooden surface waiting for some kind of use. Severus silently questioned if the other wizard knew how to use any of them in their normal capacity, and if so, where he'd learned it from. Only Arthur's tuft of red hair could be seen over the radios on the bench, at least until he raised his head at the professor's greeting.

"Severus!" The Gryffindor joyfully greeted, standing tall with his arms opened wide, almost knocking over a can of some kind of black liquid in the process. Immediately, the Slytherin was put on edge. He'd never really sat down to speak with Arthur Weasley, at least not as often as Molly - who primarily attended the plentiful of disciplinary meetings for Fred and George - and definitely not outside of an Order meeting or classroom setting. The redhead swung his arm around beckoning the professor inside with a hurried, "Come in, come in."

Afraid to touch anything in the organized chaos, Severus entered the garage peering at all the things around him.

"What brings to you Ottery St Catchpole this fine morning?" Arthur asked, pulling out a stool for Severus and sitting back down in the one he'd been previously occupying. "My children can't be in trouble before term has even started, that would certainly be some kind of record!"

Severus gave a small chuckle and shook his head from side to side. Was this how Lucius felt when he had been over at Spinner's End?

"No, nothing like that," he reassured the Gryffindor to his right. "I hope I didn't interrupt-" he pointed to a radio completely dismantled, "- otherwise, I can come back another time," he lied. If he left right then, he knew he would never return, meaning he couldn't see Mae - and would completely ruin any chance of whatever was potentially happening between them; an anomaly he couldn't even begin to put a name to.

"Not at all," Arthur reassured him and, pointing at the radios, he added, "I had been messing with these just in case You-Know-Who forced the Order, or anyone really, into hiding. We'd be able to communicate with a special station. Thankfully, that's a moot point, now with… him gone and all… but, it gives me a reason to be out here." He looked over towards where the house would be located on the other side of the metal garage wall.

Nodding his understanding, Severus picked up the front piece of the radios, completely unable to identify anything the Gryffindor had been working on. Arthur had a talent and in his own quest to combine muggle and magical medicine, he wondered what other things could be made more efficient with a cross-disciplinary viewpoint. Ironically, Arthur's whole career at the Ministry was spent preventing the very thing the man loved the most - mixing muggle objects with magic - making him possibly the best one to do it; he knew exactly what not to do. Unfortunately, the Wizarding World quickly learned when done incorrectly, the muggles became far too suspicious of the magical activity. However, there certainly were exceptions and that was where he found himself wanting to explore.

"You have a natural talent for these kinds of things," Severus awkwardly transitioned, figuring the whole day would likely be one awkward moment after the next.

"I try to stay on top of things," Arthur humbly replied. "In my line of work, you'd be surprised at some of the things we come across. Obviously as a first generation Half-blood, you probably recognized all of this stuff." Arthur swept his hand over the garage, giving Severus more credit than he deserved. "So, if not the children, or the Order-" he paused and Severus shook his head denying that his visit had anything to do with their mutual organization, "-is it Harry?"

"No," Severus quietly answered, feeling his breathing shallow as his nerves increased. "I need to ask you a favor… or some advice, possibly both."

Arthur's eyes lit up, and he shifted himself on his grease smeared stool until he was facing Severus. His face didn't have any hint of mocking on it, and instead he appeared to take the request seriously; for which Severus found himself filled with deep gratitude. Here was a man who had been proverbially dragged through the mud by the group Severus had voluntarily joined and - at one point in his life believed in - ready to put aside their difference to assist the former Death Eater without taking any amusement in it.

"What is it you're needing?"

This was it; now or never. He could choose to walk away and leave Mae and her loud, obnoxious, and completely opposite-to-him personality behind him. Yet he knew he'd regret it and he'd already lived too much of his life with regrets.

"There's… someone, a muggle, I need to be able to speak with, possibly regularly, while I'm at Hogwarts," he started to explain. "I have a phone at my home, however I'd prefer if I could either take the call at Hogwarts or at a minimum have some way to know this person was trying to reach me."

"Ah," Arthur cryptically said, nodding his head quickly, "I have just the thing you need."

The Gryffindor stood from his stool and went to the back of the garage where another workbench took up the entire length of the wall covered with pieces and parts to things Severus couldn't identify. Arthur rustled through the pile, placing mismatched tools, cords, and light bulbs off to the side.

"Here it is!" He called out lifting a very plain, black telephone up in the air. At first glance, Severus couldn't tell anything different with the phone; looking no functionally different than his at home. Naturally, he assumed the other wizard had misunderstood his meaning. Arthur proudly thrusted the black boxy phone into Severus's hands and announced, "This is a teally-frone."

"Telephone," Severus corrected, but the man was already moving onto the explanation, missing the pronunciation.

"Back in the summer betweeeeenn… second and third year," Arthur sat down and pointed at the phone, "Ron wanted to talk to Harry at his relatives home, so I found everything I could about these… things… it ended up as a disaster, but that's besides the point… I created this beauty shortly after."

Severus furrowed his black eyebrows trying to find the nicest way to ask what the bloody hell he was talking about. Gently, he asked, "So, will this be able to solve my problem?"

"Yes, yes," Arthur quickly confirmed, "this teally-frone is more like…. What do muggles call them? Prage? No, that's not it-" He screwed his eyes up towards the ceiling as he thought for the right word and Severus was concerned he had finally been pushed too far, "-a pager! Simply plug this plug into your wall, pick up the receiver and run your wand over the mouthpiece. Then, whenever you receive a teally-frone call, it will tell the other person to leave a missive, and then wherever your wand is located, a bit of parchment will pop up with the message."

Warily, Severus looked down at the very regular looking phone in his hands. He'd never heard the term "pager" before, but Harry would probably know more about it. Regardless, this was almost too simple. He'd hoped Arthur would be able to help him, and while this wouldn't allow him to speak with Mae, it would let him know when she called and he could floo back home when convenient to do so.

"This is… perfect," he told the Gryffindor who had a large smile from the compliment. "How much for-"

"Nothing," Arthur cut him off.

"You spent a lot of time working on this, you should surely expect to be compensated for your time."

"As much as I appreciate it," the red-headed wizard reasoned, "let's be honest, the thing would probably sit on that counter collecting dust for the next decade. By then, there will be so many other things for me to discover. Molly would probably pay you just to get it out of here!"

Severus couldn't help laughing at the sentiment. Given the room around him, he was lucky Arthur had been able to find the telephone in the first place.

"Thank you," he said. "If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate."

"I hope that works out for you," Arthur said. "Was there anything else you needed?"

"Actually," Severus said after a second's hesitation, "I was hoping to have a word with Ron and Hermione."

"Oh?" Arthur questioned, standing up, to which Severus followed suit. "Harry this time?'

"Unfortunately, yes" the professor replied once they reached the door leading to the garden, "Harry will be returning to the Tower this year, and classes in general, and I hoped to get their help in keeping a closer eye on him."

"Yes, well, I'm sure you know," Arthur started as they made their way back towards the house, the noise still as loud as beforehand, "Harry has always been very independent."

Severus held his tongue against correcting the Gryffindor. Harry's independence came from the need to protect himself and hide the truth about the abusive home he grew up in. Under no circumstances was it a trait to be celebrated or rewarded. How could no one have seen the correlation to help the young wizard when he needed it the most?

They entered the Burrow from the back garden door, near where the tables had been set up for Harry's birthday party. Much to his surprise, entering near the kitchen was actually quieter than when Molly greeted him at the front door. With a house full of teenagers - he included the twins as they mentally were about on the same level as Ron or Ginny - he would have expected the kitchen area to be the first place they'd be found.

"Get everything settled?" Molly inquired, as she passed by them on her way to the stairs with an armful of black robes and various red and gold clothing, reminding him the house was full of Gryffindors. The entire wizarding world would be up in arms if any green and silver made its way into this household.

"Yes," he said, lifting the phone in his hands as if it explained everything. "Though, I'd hoped to have a word with Ron and Hermione before I took my leave?"

Molly flushed, over his formality in asking or from all her galivanting across the house, he couldn't say. She called up the center of the rickety staircase - one, he noted, that did not creak - at a far higher decibel level than he prepared his ears to hear. The sound of loud, clumsy feet racing down the stairs almost made Severus reconsider his decision, but when Ron came to a screeching halt at the sight of his Defense professor at the bottom, it made his own discomfort worth it.

"Professor Snape would like to speak with you both," Molly lectured in a voice Severus could tell she reserved for warning her children that any misstep would end in severe punishment. Then turning back to him, she kindly added, "you'll have some privacy in the sitting room."

Since the ground floor of the Burrow consisted of an open circle around the staircase, the professor naturally assumed the privacy the matriarch mentioned was permission for him to cast a privacy ward around them. The tiny room - close to the size of his own at Spinner's End - had both a comfortable and terrifying feeling to it, with its slanted wooden beamed ceiling looking as if the structure above him could collapse at any moment, contrasted by the mismatching old brown sofa, large cream colored armchair, and smaller red armchair; all of which were covered in bright blankets sure to have been handmade by Molly herself. The two Gryffindors settled next to each other on the sofa, while Severus expectantly took the larger armchair across from them, where he rested his elbows on his thighs in an attempt to calm the obvious increasing anxiety in the red-headed wizard. The small circle table in the middle of the furniture was hardly large enough to hold the textbooks, parchment, and inkwell left upon it, evidence of someone trying to finish up last minute summer assignments; Herbology, he guessed, based on the textbook.

With a wave of his wand, the privacy ward was cast around them and he heard Ron audibly gulp.

"As I know you are both already aware," the former spy began, "Harry will be returning to the Tower this year and to select classes."

"We have, sir," Hermione spoke up, confidently. "I think it's going to be good for him… so he doesn't feel so secluded this year."

There were times he truly appreciated the Gryffindor know-it-all's propensity to over evaluate any given situation. In class, depending on its utilization, she could challenge or hinder her classmates. This, however, was not one of those times he welcomed her attempt to over analyze the situation.

"While that may be true, Miss Granger," the professor emphasized, "it also leaves him in a vulnerable position to hide away anything he deems 'not important'. And, unfortunately, when it comes to situations relating to himself, I think we can all agree he tends to take a more liberal definition of 'not important'."

The statement sat heavily between them as the two teenagers unwrapped what he'd just explained. For a split second, Severus thought he would need to be more explicit, but thankfully Hermione's brown eyes showed him she understood. If need be, she could then explain it to the youngest Weasley wizard once he left.

"Professor," Hermione said, "we've always supported Harry and encouraged him to-"

"Yes," Severus interrupted what was sure to be some defense to their friendship, "you have supported him - your word, Miss Granger - in hiding away anything he might have needed help with. What Harry needs now isn't someone to enable his subterfuge in a given situation, he needs friends to assist him in making the difficult decision to come forward when things aren't going well. If he wakes up with a sore throat, for example.

"So far, you've supported his ability to hide away his starvation and neglect each and every summer, and the abuse from within his own family as well as from at least one professor on the Hogwarts staff-"

"But, sir, how did you-"

"Did you tell anyone about it, Miss Granger?" He argued, trying to keep himself in control of the situation, trying to understand these children were faced with situations no child should ever be in, and they reacted as children would. They thought by respecting Harry's wishes to keep their silence, they were helping him, when in fact they enabled the abuse to continue.

"No, but Harry-"

"-Does not always know what's best for him."

Those were the words they all needed to hear. Harry would put anyone else's needs before his own and then claim his Gryffindors righteousness as the reason why. Severus stood by his assessment last year that they did their students a disservice when sorted by their dominant traits. No one had to encourage Harry's chivalry, to right every wrong except when it related to himself. That trait was reserved for Slytherins and this child - the one he felt in his heart was his child - would do anything to separate himself from the house of Voldemort; even if it killed him in the end.

For better or worse, that statement broke apart the last barrier between Severus and Harry's two closest confidants. He made sure to tell them he didn't expect them to lose Harry's trust, because he needed them this year. But at the same time, Harry needed someone to be strong enough to tell the teen when things were getting dangerous, when he needed to seek help. This year would challenge them all, and Severus could only hope between him, Minerva, and these two teenagers - not to mention the rest of Gryffindor House - Harry would reach out to one of them if things got too much for him to handle alone.

"Where are you going?"

Harry was lying down on the sitting room sofa when Severus entered at a quarter to five in the evening, giving him just enough time to floo home to set up his new phone before disapparating to a space near the restaurant in Guildford. He paused at the sight of Harry, leaning up on his elbows with a book he'd been previously reading now resting on his chest, because from this angle - especially with his hair grown back - he didn't look much different than Severus's son used to. This could have been a scene from his old reality, one he would never have gotten to live because the other Harry didn't get a chance to live to be seventeen. Every so often the grief managed to make its way through his Occlumency shields, as well as every other technique he used so he could continue to function on a day-by-day basis. This had been one of those times, and he could tell Harry realized it as he rounded the corner and unceremoniously sat down in his armchair.

"As I mentioned this morning," Severus managed to say without any quivering in his voice, "I will be going out for a bit tonight. I'll have my sphere with me should you need me and Minerva is obviously in the castle. Feel free to begin moving your belongings up to the Gryffindor tower while I'm away, and of course you may

leave anything here you'd like."

Harry narrowed his green eyes, sitting up the rest of the way and placing the book - Severus's old potions text - onto the table in front of him.

"Yeah," Harry said, suspiciously, "I remember all that, but where are you going? You look… nice."

Almost insulted, Severus looked down at what he thought was his normal muggle attire. Admittedly, he had picked his nicer pair of black trousers and his normal white buttoned down shirt had been dressed up with a black vest over it. In hindsight, he should have opted to put the vest on at Spinner's End instead of here, where Harry would have noticed the addition.

"I need to stop by home, and then-" the professor paused, quickly considering if he wanted to tell Harry about the date with one of Dr Swanson's nurses. He certainly didn't need the teenager's approval, and if he were honest, it was only marginally appropriate to begin with. At the last second, he decided if things with Mae went well, he'd eventually tell Harry. No need to get onto it if he fell flat on his face tonight, though it might make his next chemotherapy treatment a little awkward, "-I have an appointment at Gringotts."

Harry's eyes narrowed further, until they were only a small slit of green, obviously not trusting the explanation he'd been given, but not exactly knowing why.

"Then why aren't you wearing robes?" The teenager challenged with a smirk firmly planted on his face.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, "My choice of attire to visit the goblins is none of your concern. However, as I'm sure you can remember from our last Diagon Alley trip, I was wearing muggle clothing."

"Suit yourself," Harry shrugged with a chuckle and dramatically picked up the book from the table and went back to reading, or at least he appeared to go back to reading.

"I've left your medication out on the countertop in the kitchen," Severus reminded the young wizard, "take it an-"

"-hour after dinner," Harry abruptly finished for him. "That one I can remember. Good luck with the Goblins."

Based on Harry's tone of voice and expression, he knew there was no way the Gryffindor believed his lie, but Severus simply shook his head as he stood to leave. Giving Harry a warning look - as if to say be good while I'm gone - he took a handful of floo powder and exited his quarters for Spinner's End.

The town of Guildford in Surrey, where the hospital and chemotherapy center were located, sat only about 30 kilometers from Little Whinging and 200 from Cokeworth. While traveling via apparation made something like distance not quite as problematic, Severus hated whenever he had to side-along Harry that far after chemotherapy. For his appointments during the school year, he would have to get creative because apparating from Guildford to Cokeworth, then flooing to Hogwarts would take a lot out of the young wizard. With still a fortnight to consider his options, he put that thought - and many of the others about Harry's cancer which always occupied his mind - away to focus on the night ahead of him. Regardless of what he didn't want to call it, similar to the birthday non-party Harry organized for his last birthday, he was going on a date.

Under normal, not-about-to-be-on-a-date circumstances, Severus would have found himself enjoying the area where the Village Tree gastropub was located. Filled with cobblestone streets, a clean, winding river, festivals throughout the year - one marking the end of the summer was going on that night - and the castle situated in the town center, Guildford had something of interest for almost any occasion. Severus could definitely understand the allure to reside in the quiet, muggle town, especially for the younger generation.

The Village Tree was located on the other side of Guildford from the hospital and chemotherapy center, out in the countryside surrounded by lush green fields, meaning the professor had to disapparate as close to the restaurant as possible, then immediately cast a disillusionment charm so as not to draw attention to his sudden presence. Though counterintuitive at first, he preferred apparating into the more populated areas where his sudden appearance wouldn't be nearly as noticeable among the crowd, than into a half empty field where a single man walking along the road would look out of place.

The moment his eyes caught sight of the charming building with its white brick bottom, red cedar shingle siding, and a plethora of windows lining the bottom and top floor surely providing enough natural light to create a serene atmosphere for the patrons inside, Severus wanted to turn around and leave. Why did he think it would be a good idea to meet a muggle nurse for dinner on a Saturday night? Unfortunately midway through his decision to leave, he looked ahead and saw Mae leaning against the building waving her arm in the air to get his attention. Dressed in a solid royal blue, knee length dress paired with a white short-sleeved cardigan and her straight blonde hair done up in a loose bun with tendrils outlining her face, the muggle looked casual, yet stunning, even if currently acting boisterous and loud.

"You're early?!" Her eyebrows rose so far they practically hit her hairline.

"You say it as if you already judged me for being late," Severus responded, walking up to his dinner companion for the night. Back at the hospital, he hadn't noticed how tall she stood. In her torture device looking high heeled shoes, she met him eye-to-eye, taking away some of his usual self-assurance. "Is your opinion of me already that low?"

Mae shrugged, and the professor had to resist the urge to cringe at the gesture he saw far too often from teenagers almost daily, "You are the one who took eight days to call me. I wouldn't be half surprised if you didn't show. I mean, I have no way to contact you, so the ball was completely in your court. And that's a lot of trust to give someone I barely know."

Without any preamble, Severus pulled the small slip of paper he prepared at home with his telephone number to Spinner's End. He had no way to test if Arthur's contraption would actually work, and he had no idea the track record for such inventions, however if it was anything like the flying car Harry and Ron flew to school in their second year, he wouldn't hold his breath.

"The elusive phone number," she smiled as she continued to taunt him. "Should I feel honored you've given this up before our date? What if I'm a total creeper or something?"

"Then I'll simply swap rooms with my most hated colleague," Severus seriously retorted, "I certainly would not care if he received incessant phone calls at all hours of the night."

She gave a half laugh and half snort - one Severus found annoyingly endearing - not expecting such a response from him. As he held the door open for her, she promptly tucked the slip of paper into her blue pocketbook, then walked inside. Now he very well couldn't turn back.

The interior of the restaurant had a very comfortable, rustic look to it. The walls were the same white brick as the outside, and a black brick fireplace sat on the right-hand wall. As Severus assumed, the windows brought in enough natural light not to need much from the pendant lights hanging over each table during the day. The tables were made of a smooth dark walnut, making the white cloth napkins shockingly stand out. A full bar, stocked with any type of alcohol the patrons could want, separated the front dining area from the back, where Mae and Severus were led. The exposed brick continued into the back dining room, but with less windows, the soft glow from above the table, combined with the fire from a second fireplace - on the left side this time - created a very serene atmosphere.

The type of atmosphere one expects on a date, the former Death Eater thought with a half grimace. Clearly the hostess could tell the couple were out on a date and likely chose to seat them accordingly.

The pair were escorted to a two person table located near the fireplace, where the familiar popping and crackling of the fire almost instantly calmed the professor's nerves. If not for the succulent aromas wafting by his nose, Severus could close his eyes and almost imagine he were sitting back at home - either of them - in his sitting room.

If a future version of himself had come to visit him earlier that morning, telling of how easy and casual the beginning of his date would be, Severus would have probably hexed himself. What he'd anticipated would be an uncomfortable exchange of pleasantries, with not much conversation to it, ended up being a very natural start with Mae asking all about moving into his boarding school.

Once their waitress had taken their order - mushroom alfredo for Mae and breaded wholetail scampi for Severus, both with a glass of pinot grigio - things took an interesting turn.

"Severus is a very… unique name," she said, after taking a sip of her white wine, "I take it you're named after someone?"

"If so, I am unaware of it," he blandly answered, unwilling to bring up his middle namesake to his father. "If I remember correctly, it translates to 'stern' in Latin. Quite appropriate if you'd ask my students. And is Mae a familiar name?"

She gave another laugh, drawing attention to their small table.

"Actually, my first name is after my grandmother," the nurse smirked and Severus waited to hear why she found the story so enlightening. "Mae is actually my middle name-" she cringed, then raising her hand she sheepishly added, "I'm Malinda Scott."

"Shall I assume you are familiar with the phrase 'the pot calling the kettle black'," he teased, "and therefore you need not require my explanation of it?"

"I did not lie about my name," she loudly justified, "I've used Mae since primary school… try going through life as Malinda… so for all intents and purposes, it is my name. You on the other hand went galivanting around under a false name."

His life as a spy had given him far too many pseudonyms to remember them all, and somehow the one time he hadn't been trying to cover his identity, it happened naturally.

"Semantics," he casually claimed, "it makes certain aspects of my life easier by allowing people to make assumptions in very specific situations. And for the record, I was hardly galivanting."

She narrowed her brown eyes across from him, making his cheeks feel flush. To help alleviate the tension, he took a sip of his wine and looked around the large room. Since their arrival, three other couples had arrived. One of them, sitting in the corner, looked about ten years his senior, and appeared so comfortable around one another he assumed they'd been married long enough to not only know each other's favorite dish from this specific restaurant, but likely from anywhere they went.

"Divorced?" She guessed, crossing the line of what Severus deemed appropriate for a first date, however her personality didn't exactly scream the best decorum to begin with, and yet knowing that he still agreed on the date. "Or is there a more interesting story behind having a different last name than your son?"

Another choice. He could go on with the farce and pretend to be a mid-thirties divorced parent. But he pretended so much in his life and a piece of him - the hidden part he tried not to think too much about - enjoyed having someone to talk to. He already couldn't tell her about his magic, so lying about Harry felt like it crossed the line too much.

"Technically, I am not Harry's biological parent," he carefully said.

"Technically," she repeated with a hard emphasis on the word, "another lie? How can one technically not be a parent and yet be the only one bringing him in for treatment? And be on a first name basis with his doctor?"

"He's a ward of the school," Severus replied, watching her eyes as she began to comprehend what he said, "his parents died when he was only a year old. I've been looking out for him for years, and therefore he feels like my son. Only recently I've taken over as his medical proxy given his illness."

"Oh," sympathy filled her eyes and she didn't even know half of the story. Regardless of her good intentions, Severus knew Harry hated to see people feeling sorry for him. "That's... awful. He's lucky to have you."

"He does not want your sympathy," the professor practically scolded her, "Harry's situation is unfortunate, nevertheless he's come to terms with it years ago. We do the best we can."

"I've been working with cancer patients for over a decade," she became far more somber than he'd ever seen her and he regretted the turn the conversation had taken, "and I still have a soft spot for the kids. I know I shouldn't… is that why I've not seen you both in the office? Because he's been away at school?"

Inwardly, the former spy sighed, luckily he'd already thought about this coming up, "Yes, we had it arranged early on so most of his treatment was done at the school."

"Impressive," she commented, "not many patients received the level of personalized care he has."

"As I said, his situation is… unique."

"Actually," her pompous attitude returned in full force at the opportunity to correct him, "you said 'unfortunate'."

By the time their entrees arrived, Severus had learned Mae originally wanted to become an oncologist after her mother had been diagnosed with brain cancer when she was only fifteen years old and she'd seen the suffering her mother had gone through. Unfortunately, her path took a winding turn after the matriarch succumbed to the disease only a short year later, leaving her father distraught and unable to properly care for her ten year old brother. At that point, Mae decided to take a year off school to help out her dad, then went back part-time to earn a nursing degree in both adult and pediatric specialties.

Based on some quick calculations Severus guessed the nurse had to be somewhere around 34 years old - he knew better than to ask though. Mae talked about how deep down she regretted not pursuing her dream of medicine, but early on she'd learned as a nurse, she could be more hands on with patients during the times they needed someone there with them the most. Severus purposefully stayed as far away from Harry and his own battle with Leukemia as possible, only crossing the line to tell her he knew how much the patients appreciated her presence; how lonely and isolating this disease left people in its disastrous wake. His date also talked about growing up near Cambridge, and how she decided to move to Guildford only when she accepted the position working with Dr Swanson seven years ago, and then at the chemotherapy center five years ago. She lived in a two-floor flat near the Guilford Castle, with her flatmate, Jessica, who also worked as a nurse, but in the emergency department of the muggle hospital, meaning they could go days on opposite schedules and rarely see each other.

During their entrees, Mae took the upper hand in the conversation and used the opportunity to pepper him with questions all about teaching at a boarding school. In addition to the typical inquiries, "do you have live a dorm style room", "do you have to eat every meal with your colleagues'', and "do you ever get bored on the weekends", he was also subjected to a set of questions far more liberal than he would have liked, including "how is living with hundreds of hormonal teenagers", "what's the most awkward situation you've ever witnessed", and "the worst explosion you've ever had in class"? She laughed at the stories he told - all evidence of magic removed, of course - of hunting students out past curfew, drunken staff Christmas parties - particularly the one where Professor Trelawney somehow ate a set of biscuits laced with one of the more "experimental" plants from their botany department and attempted to serenade the headmaster; the culprit of the toxic biscuits had, regrettably, never been found, though Severus knew of a couple students with ties to the kitchen staff - and hours upon hours of detentions. He conveniently stayed away from his childhood, and he knew she could tell the subject was strictly off limits; earning his respect by honoring the unspoken request.

No one had ever listened to what he said with as much interest as Mae; at least not since his friendship with Lily. While Mae had the same fiery attitude, prepared to tell him off or challenge him if he said something almost contradictory, she had a much different way of going about it than Lily. By all accounts, Mae should have left him feeling nervous, anxious, and itching to leave, but for whatever reason he felt the exact opposite and by the time they'd finished dessert, he realized they had spent the better part of four hours at the Village Tree.

"I need to get back to Harry," he said after paying their bill, feeling guilty to have left the young wizard alone for so long. Never did he anticipate, when he left his quarters by floo, he would thoroughly enjoy the company of Mae and the date overall.

"If I call this number sometime, will it reach you or one of your prat colleagues?" She boldly asked as they exited the restaurant. The sun had set and a small cool breeze filled the air around them.

Severus gave a small chuckle and said, "It will reach me. I will warn you though, I'm not often in my rooms, but I'll receive your message and call you back as soon as I'm able."

He could only hope he'd could trust Arthur and he would, indeed, get her message because he did hope to hear from her again.

When Severus finally returned home to Hogwarts - after disapparating to Spinner's End, then flooing back - around quarter to ten, the sitting room was quiet. The lanterns in the corners of the room were dimmed, allowing him enough light to see around the furniture, though he could have easily navigated the room with his eyes closed. Harry had cleaned up his school books from the table and sofa, leaving everything in an almost pristine condition. He made a detour into the kitchen on his way to the bedroom corridor, to make sure Harry had taken his medication. Severus smiled, pleased to see the bottle of tablets no longer on the countertop and instead replaced neatly back onto the shelf alongside the Gryffindor's other bottles of medications.

The former spy took a second outside of Harry's door to see if he could tell if the young wizard was asleep yet. When he heard a small rustling coming from the other side, he knocked, and then opened the door. Harry was already dressed for bed in a pair of green and black plaid pyjama bottoms and a plain black, long sleeved shirt, laying in his bed on his back, staring up towards the ceiling, focusing his eyes back and forth on something Severus could not see, but knew it had to be the practice snitch he'd received from Minerva for his birthday.

Upon noticing the professor standing in his doorway, Harry started to sit up, grabbing the snitch from the air with very little effort - a move Severus would have cursed if Harry were still playing on the Quidditch team this year - on his way and swung his legs over the side of the still made bed. With a mischievous smile, the teen asked, "Went to see the Goblins, huh?"

Not one to give someone - especially Harry - that satisfaction, Severus simply replied, "Shut up and go to bed."